Of Southern Belles and Criminalists
by Psycho Goddess
Summary: A discussion about movies reveals something odd. [GSR]


**Title**: Of Southern Belles and Criminalists

**Summary**: A discussion about movies reveals something odd. [GSR]

**Pairings**: Grissom/Sara

**Rating**: PG 13

**Category**: Romance/Humour

**Author's Notes**: Kudos to **kerlin** and **boofadil**, who both beta'd this story a long time ago. They did a wonderful job, and the fact that the final result is more OOC then the original should not reflect poorly on them. 

And yes, this is pretty much OOC. You'll never see this on TV. But it was fun to write, and (I hope) fun to read. Feedback is appreciated, but I promise not to track you down and hang you by your toes until you comment. So long as you're honest, critique away.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own CSI or anything else mentioned in this story. Really, feel free to sue me. I have half a bunny from Easter left, and that's about it.

~... .....-*-... .....~

A few years ago, Gil Grissom would have had no complaints about going out for breakfast with his colleagues after shift. Things had certainly come a long way since then, he mused, and not for the better.

He was the last to arrive at the diner, and he pulled a chair from the neighboring table up to the booth. Nick and Warrick nodded to him, and Sara leaned forward just enough to grin at him from her position on the far side of Nick. The atmosphere was relaxed; the topic of work had been replaced with tales of Lindsey's latest adventure and the imminent arrival of Nick's sister. With no exceptionally bad cases that week to hang over their heads there seemed to be an air of camaraderie that had been missing all too often of late.

           "Grissom…" Grissom didn't care for the saccharine sweet tone of Catherine's voice. It was all too reminiscent of a lioness about to pounce. "You're late. No escaping it; you have to answer. What's your secret movie?" 

"Secret movie?" 

"Yeah, you know. The movie you watch, but would never admit to in a million years," Sara explained. "Cath here loves A Little Princess, Nicky has Friday the Thirteenth-"

"Only the first one," the man in question interjected. "The others were just stupid." 

Sara rolled her eyes. "Warrick is a Grease fan."  
"What about you?"

"Gorillas in the Mist," she said. When she saw the look of realization on his face, she added, "Just...don't, okay?"

A bell rang at the counter to announce the food was up, and Nick, Sara and Warrick went to retrieve it. With their absence, Grissom hoped he was off the hook. He turned to the only remaining person. 

"How did we get on this topic?"

Catherine shrugged. "It came up. You can learn a lot about a person by what they watch."

The younger CSIs came back to the table, Nick and Sara asking Warrick for another Danny Zuko impression. He obliged, and even Grissom smiled at his exaggeration. 

            The plates were distributed, and for a few minutes a companionable hush fell over the table. Grissom wondered who remembered to order his toast well done, but came to the conclusion that it didn't matter. These people were his family, or the closest thing to.

"Are you ever going to answer Griss?" Sara asked between mouthfuls. Her plate was nearly cleaned already.

He grunted in reply, then caught Catherine's glare. They _were _family after all.

"Gone With The Wind" 

"That is _such_ a copout!"

"How so?"

"Please!" exclaimed an irate Catherine. "I have a kid's movie, Warrick has a musical, Nick has a horror film, and Sara has… _whatever_. And then you come out with a film classic?"

"Cath's got a point," Nick pointed out, laughing. "You better have a good reason, or these two'll tear your hide. I tried Mission Impossible, and Sara smacked me upside the head."

The brunette's attempt at feigning innocence was short-lived and she began to chuckle.

"It's not my fault you're dense. _Every_ guy likes Mission Impossible."

"I don't," Grissom said, and the two women glared at him as if to suggest that was obvious. 

"You aren't…" Sara started, quickly amending her statement. "You don't count."

He was tempted to pursue that line of thought, but she seemed uncharacteristically flustered. An off-balance Sara was a rare occurrence, and he found himself enjoying the possibilities it presented.

"What if I said I enjoy it because it's romantic?"

Sara's half chewed bite of omelet splattered on the opposite site of the booth, narrowly missing both Catherine and Warrick. Sara coughed to mask her surprise. He remembered? Her statement had been made years earlier in passing, and her opinions had changed greatly in the intervening time. 

"Romantic? Hardly!"       

"What's wrong with it?"

He actually had the nerve to look put out.

"Please. Rhett waited all those years just to leave?"

"Scarlett had already left in the only way that mattered to him. She never gave him a chance."

"Maybe she had the right idea," Sara snapped, eyes blazing. "Look what he did with the chance he had." 

He looked at her then, carefully noting all the subtle clues. Her furrowed brow and slightly pursed lips suggested she was pissed and he was missing her point.  

"He gave up on her," Sara said, bitterness tingeing her words.  
"Isn't that what she wanted?"

"He was only in it for what was good for him," Sara countered. Her voice was rising, its pitch becoming slightly more strangled on every word. "He didn't care what she wanted. He had already made up his mind."

Grissom came to the disconcerting realization that they weren't just discussing the movie. When or why their words had taken a second meaning was unclear to him, but it was there, simmering just below the surface of their carefully scripted debate.

"He did what was best for both of them."  
"What was best? They loved one another, and he left her crying."  
"She was stronger for it in the end."

Sara shook her head, then motioned Nick to let her pass. Exchanging confused glances with the others, he obliged and slid from the booth. She stood and slammed down a few bills from her purse, not breaking eye contact with Grissom as she did so.

"She wasn't any better off, Grissom. She just threw herself into the only safety net she had." 

She snickered acrimoniously. "The ending wasn't even hopeful, not really. 'Tomorrow is another day'? It was just another day for her to live life, which is chockfull of shit either way. After everything, she still wanted him. And you never even know if she got him back."

"There was a sequel," Grissom said quietly. 

"What?" 

Whatever she had been expecting him to say, this was not it. 

"A sequel. Not by the same author, and the characters were a little beat up after everything they'd been through, but the story continued."

In an attempt to regain her dignity she gave a strained smile as she said goodbye to the others. Sparing Grissom a single, confused glance, Sara left. 

~*~  
  


Sara waited until the last minute to head into the lab, hoping to avoid her coworkers until the last possible moment. There was no way they were going to ignore her outburst over that stupid movie.

She took long strides as she headed for the locker room, hoping that people would assume she was busy and not attempt to speak with her. Thankfully, nobody was there when she arrived, and she allowed herself to take a calming breath before resuming her activities. She twirled the combination to her lock, opening the metal door quickly. Something fell out of her locker, and she hung her coat before stooping to pick it up.

She couldn't help but grin when she saw it was a well-worn novel, the front jacket displaying the picture of an impossibly beautiful dark haired woman looking to a distant island. The title identified it as Scarlett. 

The sequel.

She opened it, trepidation and hope battling within her, and saw an inscription.

_As Rhett Butler said- What a woman! _

……………

~:*:~Fini~:*:~


End file.
